The Flow of Time
by Deader than the Doornail
Summary: Lucina spoke many times of the wrathful flow of time; she shared her fear of its vengeance, and spoke in humble, hushed tones. But Robin never doubted her own abilities to see her family and friends safe. She thought that they could win, without loss. Now, nearly five years after Grima's sealing, Robin's proud head bows forever before the power of fate.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own** ** _Fire Emblem: Awakening._**

* * *

 **• {Chapter one} •**

 _In a small town southward of Ylisse, in the month of Juno, at the present time:_

 _My dear Lissa,_

 _There is not much to write today. I have convinced our sister to give me the occupation of chef in the house; I lied and said it made me feel better to have a useful purpose. She tilted her head and smiled in a warm fashion, as she always does. With that image in my mind, how could I ever tell her how awful a cook she truly is?_

 _My little boy is walking quite well, now. Though his elder sister would ignore him since birth, today she seemed to have rediscovered his existence, and is very well pleased at his being a toddler who can keep up. I hope they shall be as close as Morgan and Lucina._

 _There is nothing more to report at the moment._

* * *

 _In Ylisstol Castle, in the month of Juno, one year ago:_

 **Darkness,** she remembered. Robin had just woken from her night's rest, her eyes were closed. With a grimace and a yawn which burned her throat, Robin managed to open her eyes.

First she noticed the empty place in bed. She rolled onto her back to see the window on the left wall. Orange sunlight was pouring into the room, turning the wooden floors and fine furniture into gold. Robin recalled seeing the moon in the sky before falling asleep last night; surely the sun, then, was raising rather than setting.

"I see you're awake, now." Chrom said from another part of the room. Robin turned to him, surprised to find him dressed in his white court clothes, Falchion sheathed in the richest silk at his side. As she studied him, Chrom approached and sat at the foot of the bed. "Do you feel better this morning?"

"... I think so." Robin whispered hoarsely. "My throat still burns, but only slightly. And my head no longer feels awkwardly attached to my neck."

Chrom smiled and nodded. "That's good. But you still need to take it easy. Stay in bed all day, if you can stand it. The children are fine with Morgan, and have his wife when they need motherly comfort."

"But where will you be?" Robin asked.

Chrom shook his head. "On the road to Feroxi. If it were anyone else, I would stay here and see you recover, but I can not disappoint Flavia again." He clenched his teeth. "Damn tournament. Why can't they simply elect a leader through a vote like every other civilized country?"

Robin smirked. "Then Flavia would not live in Feroxi."

Chrom laughed shortly. "No, of course not." But he frowned. "I still don't see why we need to be there. She agreed that she could not ask us to fight when Lon'qu is her opponent; why does she need us as spectators? I can not lend jeers for her side, and even if I could, I seem incapable of mocking to her standards."

Robin's smirk deepened into a smile. "Stop, you're going to make me laugh and that will hurt my throat."

"I'm sorry. Please, promise to behave and rest. You'll never get rid of this illness if you don't take your time recovering."

"I know. I promise."

"I suspect I'll be gone for at least a fortnight, maybe more; in the meantime, I'll have Frederick watch over you. I've given him specific instructions, including but not limited to mandatory breakfasts and suppers, no reading for more than one hour at a time, no leaving your bed unless you are feeling miraculously stronger, and no leaving your room until I return. All my mail will be handled by my advisors, as will any of your mail that bears an official seal; personal letters will be set aside on your desk until you are well enough to reading them. Ah, let's see..."

Robin wanted to make a sharp retort, but all her stuffy mind could think to say was 'cough'. As the fit carried on for a few seconds, Chrom fussed over her, adjusting her pillows, supporting her back, and checking her handkerchief for stains. Once Robin had calmed down, she laid back on her bed with a sigh of exhaustion, noticing that Chrom himself was almost as white as his outfit.

Robin felt guilty about worrying him, so drew what strength she could muster into a playful act of pouting by pulling the covers over her head and mumbling, "Surely I shan't be able to recover in this oppressive environment."

"Robin," Chrom said, his voice not at all light, "I shall stay and send Lissa and Morgan in my place. Flavia will understand."

"No, Chrom," Robin argued, pulling back the covers. "I am fine. I shall recover quickly enough, and nothing can go wrong with me as long as Frederick is here. You must go and get out of the palace - be a prince again for a little while. You have hardly left my side this past week and shall run yourself into bed if you don't relax. Please, go and have fun for my sake?"

Robin took his strong hand between her two weak ones. She tried to squeeze his hand reassuringly, but her own hardly followed her dictations anymore. She felt so cold and thin, and thought that Chrom must have felt it to; he looked hurt as he stared at the veins protruding from her pale skin.

Robin said quickly, "Go now. I wish to sleep some more and can't do so when you're hanging about badgering me."

She took her hands away and lay her head firmly on her pillows, gaze turned away from Chrom. She closed her eyes and pretended not to notice when Chrom stared for several moments afterwards. She was just beginning to truly doze again when he stood up, kissed her cheek, and left the room. Robin smiled, thinking she had won and that Chrom was on his way to an enjoyable fortnight in Feroxi, where he would not be stressed over his wife's slow recovery. She fell asleep, feeling happy over her triumph.

* * *

Robin grew worse again within hours of Chrom's leaving. Her fever returned and her muscles ached from unexplainable exhaustion. Her head felt as though it were detached, floating off-centered around her neck, yet at the same time causing her body to shake uncontrollably from the sheer pain of an imaged rendering.

New days and nights brought little relief. Almost a week had past before her temperature cooled. Another week went by before Robin was able to sit up in bed and do some reading. However, it was not until three weeks had went since Chrom's departure that Robin felt well enough to receive visitors outside of doctors and priests.

Frederick appeared as soon as Robin allowed him to. She would awake in the morning to find him sitting in a chair outside her door, waiting for her to invite him in; Frederick would not leave until Robin fell asleep at night, so she was never certain how long he stayed nor how little sleep he was persevering on.

After three weeks and three days had past without any news of Chrom nor a promise of return, Robin asked for her pile of letters. "Chrom told me that he would have you put them aside for when I was well?" Robin told Frederick.

Frederick nodded. "Indeed. I have been stacking them on your desk right here." Frederick took a small pile from Robin's desk in the room. "I have kept it in chronological order, beginning with the earliest letter at the top."

Robin thanked him and settled down to read. First were letters from Shepherds who had moved far away. Henry, Nowi, Gregor, Miriel, and even a letter from Tharja delighted Robin as she lay in bed. "I may need you to write replies for me in a while, Frederick," Robin said, "for they must be worried that I haven't respond in a month."

Next came one from Feroxi, from Lon'qu. Robin opened the letter eagerly, hoping for some long letter from him or perhaps even his wife detailing an embarrassing but humorous scrape her husband may have fallen into.

Inside was a folded sheet of paper which Robin pulled out and opened. The page was mostly blank, except for two lines scribbled in the center of the paper.

 _'Chrom injured. Come quickly.'_

Robin's heart skipped. An uncomfortable weight gripped her chest, tightening as she noticed the date inside labeled as being three weeks ago.

"Frederick..." Robin gasped, handing him the letter to read. As he did so, Robin made a mess of the neat pile of letters, searching frantically for a sequel, though unsure whether she wanted one or no.

Eventually, Robin found another letter from Lon'qu, the second from the top, newly arrived that day. Robin tore into the envelop, ripping the page which contained the message. This time, there was only one line printed in the center of the page.

 _'Chrom died last night.'_

The page dropped out of Robin's hands. It fluttered onto her lap. She stared at the message, her eyes wanting to turn away yet unable to. No tears blurred her view. Murderous anger clamored for the death of the paper, as though it were an enemy on her battlefield, as though its existence was the cause of death. Death...

But all disappeared as Robin let out a scream.

* * *

Postscript

 _Oh, but there is one incident to report - I was asked by the preacher's son to go out walking after church. Our sister seems to think it important that I go._

 _But I shan't go._

* * *

 **Ending Note: So here is a new story, one which I hope I shall finish relatively soon. It shall be short, only four or five chapters in all. I have yet to begin chapter two, and honestly, I'm not totally satisfied with this chapter. However, I miss the reviews so much, I shall post this anyway and hope that some notice to this story will inspire a new writing phase for me.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Fire Emblem: Awakening.**

* * *

 **• {Chapter two} •**

 _In a small town southward of Ylisse, in the month of Iulius, at the present time:_

 _Dear Lissa,_

 _I must say that your previous letter shocked me. At first I could not fathom why my refusal to take a walk with a man should anger you so. But, after some days and much thought, I believe I have realized your reason: You wish me to move on._

 _Lissa, you and your sister are so kind and compassionate to pray for my happiness, to worry and sweat for my own sake. I thank you for this. But you can not understand how I feel. Yes, life must go on, I know this - and I think I have done quiet well coping with reality. But you can not ask me to move on, not yet. I am not ready. And no, I have no idea of when I shall be, or even if I shall ever be._

 _So please, be anxious no more for my sake. I am content to live life grieving._

* * *

 _In the nation of the Feroxi, in the month of Iulius, one year ago:_

Robin's eyes were closed. She didn't need sight to see where she was. Every time the carriage hit a bump, every pause as it turned down another fork, every stop to water the horses - she knew them all by heart. The journey to Regina Ferox was long, but unvarying; a bored queen could memorize the route after only a few trips.

So Robin lounged, mind indolent, in the carriage; she was surrounded by warm, expensive pillows, to keep her weak body from shivering or falling gracelessly to the floor. A blue blanket also covered her, one so heavy she wondered if her thin arms could even adjust its position.

But she had no cause for alarm. Every few minutes, Frederick would swing down from his seat beside the driver and into the carriage. If her eyes were closed, he would silently arrange her pillows and blanket for a few moments, satisfied only when they were snug in the original position, feel her cool forehead, and then leave. However, if Robin appeared wakeful, then Frederick would continue with his duties while badgering her with every question befitting his station of pretend lady's-maid.

So Robin kept her eyes closed. Soon, the carriage door opened again, and Frederick swung inside, shaking the compartment. It sounded as though he hesitated for a moment at the door, before putting a familiar weight on Robin's shoulder. "Robin, forgive me, but we have arrived."

Robin's eyes opened instantly. She could not help but grab Frederick and hug him as tightly as she could, though her weakness left her rather dangling in his arms. "Thank you," she said, her voice soft but solid. "I have missed you, Frederick. I don't need a servant or a caretaker or a protector. I need you, Frederick - the man I fought beside, bleed beside; the man who... knew Chrom since he was a boy, and loved him longer than I was allowed."

Robin had no strength to look up and see his reaction; falling into his arms had left her too weak to move. She began to slip towards the floor, and immediately was lifted more firmly into Frederick's grasp. He carried her and the incredibly heavy blanket out of the carriage and into the snow.

The wind struck Robin's cheeks; it seeped through the blanket and poked her body with its frozen fingertips. Soldiers surrounded the walls of Flavia's fortress, some Ylissean, most allies, but all were foreign to Robin. As she took in the glances of pity and curiosity, Robin's heart pined for the familiar warmth of a Shepherd.

"Robin," Frederick spoke conspiringly, "have you gained weight?"

Robin's eyes widened. She opened her mouth to protest, then paused. She giggled, and laughed, and might have screamed had she any energy. But she was crying.

"Frederick, I love you." she whispered hoarsely.

"And I you, Milady."

* * *

Inside, strange faces continued to greet Robin and her party. One soldier welcomed her, then instructed her to travel on; another soldier explained that Flavia was not available, but someone else would show them to their rooms; a third soldier met them and took them to the bedchambers, explaining further that Lon'qu, too, was far too busy to be disturbed. When they reached Robin's guest room, a maid delivered a letter from said man.

 _Good day, Robin. I am sure you are anxious to meet, but I would rather you rest, first. Our conversation will most likely prove tiring to you. - Lon'qu_

"Do you think... he is afraid to see me?" Robin asked Frederick, after the soldiers and maid had left. Frederick had finally deposited Robin in her bed, and was now fidgeting with her luggage and the furniture in the room.

He turned and straighted when Robin spoke. "Lon'qu is afraid of all women equally, Robin," he said, "with the singular exception of his wife. No, he certainly is not especially afraid of you."

Robin nodded. "Thank you. Will you stay with me while I wait for his arrival?"

"Unnecessary."

Robin turned, slightly startled, to the opening door. Lon'qu stood at the handle, tall and strong, in clothes much finer than seemed natural to him. He entered the room, nodding a greeting to both her and Frederick, before taking a seat at the end of Robin's bed. Upon closer inspection, Robin thought how pale his face appeared.

"Hello, Lon'qu," she said, her voice weaker than she would have liked. "I apologize for... well, this." She gestured with a short laugh to the her bedsheets.

Lon'qu shook his head. "We have sat at each other's bedside countless times. Common formalities and customs have long since been damned."

"How very true." Robin smiled. "I have missed you. It has been very long since we last saw each other."

"Three years."

"Yes, when you came to Lucina's birthday. When I had heard we had been invited to Feroxi to see you - that is, your army pitted against that of Flavia, I was excited. How strange... That was less than two months ago, yet it feels as if so much time has passed." Robin hid a cough in her hand. "I'm sorry. I sound as though my head is drugged, but it's not. I'm fine, and I want to talk."

Robin met Lon'qu eyes; his were as steely as ever, impassable, mysterious. She felt a blush realizing her own must appear so vulnerable in comparison.

Lon'qu began with a sigh. "I do not pray often, but I did thank the gods when I heard that you were not a member of that disastrous party." He paused and swallowed, his mouth set in a slight grimace. "I received a message from Chrom three weeks ago, sent ahead of his party by a soldier. In short, it informed me that his party consisted of just ten people - himself, seven measly soldiers, a valet, and the young page who delivered the letter. He told me you were not well enough to travel, but that they had made great time and were to arrive in another day. Flavia handled all the preparations necessary for welcoming someone of his class; I thought it was ridiculous to spend any special time or money on a childish king who would never on his own notice any such gestures." Lon'qu closed his eyes. "So I stayed out of the way and waited. I waited for three days."

Robin clasped her hands together.

"Finally, his carriage rolled in. Two of its wheels were split, which explained the delay. It was being supported on all side by horses, so I didn't immediately notice the missing door and the hacked wood around the hole. And when the horses were removed, my eyes instead went to the bloodied figure lying on the carriage floor."

Lon'qu's voice became quieter. Robin's fingers tightened.

"A soldier told me they were ambushed by some thieves just an hour after the messenger was sent. Some band of miscreants, petty, ugly thugs - but there were thirty of them and just eight fighting men. Just eight men... What in all the gods's names was he thinking?" Lon'qu screamed. He slammed his fist against the mattress, making a dull thud. Robin said nothing.

After a moment, Lon'qu continued in his monotonous voice, "They attacked the carriage with such vehemence, they must have suspected some great wealth inside. They badly injured one young soldier trying to gain access; the party thought the man was dead. The soldier who told me this said Chrom became suddenly enraged. He flung himself at the thieves, shouting that he would defend his men. Sometime during this panic, Chrom was stabbed through the stomach."

Robin's eyes widened. She swallowed slowly.

"Our physician couldn't say exactly how many times he was stabbed, or by what. It could have two or three times, but when the soldiers brought him here, he still had a thick dagger protruding from his abdomen. But the hole... it was larger than that dagger."

Robin nodded. "You don't need to say anymore." she whimpered. "What happened after that?"

"I sent you a letter immediately. I sent it to you, figuring that my informing anyone else would just incite dark rumors and chaos. I didn't even consider that your condition might have been just as serious as his."

"It wasn't just as serious." Robin said. "Because I am alive while Chrom is dead."

Lon'qu said nothing. There was quiet for a long time, the only noise being an occasional sniffle from Robin.

"Continue, if you please, Lon'qu." asked Frederick. Robin had almost forgotten he was there.

Lon'qu nodded. "I apologize. We waited to hear from you, and did what we could for Chrom. The physicians stitched his wound and cared for it as best they could. He regained consciousness the next day, but didn't seem - himself. He babbled, babbled endlessly for hours over strange things he supposedly had seen on the journey - flying shadows, and biped animals stalking the mountaintops. Then he would suddenly stop, shut his mouth and not speak again for days, as though he were depressed. Two weeks later, after being silent for four days, he burst out screaming and crying. He flailed around and made such horrible, gutteral noises, saying something that I just couldn't understand, until he broke the stitches and bleed to death."

"Stop." Robin said, but not quickly enough to stop Lon'qu's final remarks. "Stop." She covered her mouth, shaking her head. "I can't... hear anymore."

"Robin," Lon'qu said, "there is nothing more to tell."

"... No. There is one thing. There is more." Robin looked up, no longer feeling embarrassed to show to him her red, weak eyes. "First, how long has it been since Chrom died?"

"In two days, a fortnight."

Robin wrapped her arms tightly about her chest, her fingers digging into her soldiers to keep herself in one piece. "A fortnight." she repeated breathlessly. "My husband - dead - a fortnight. And I never knew it." She felt as thought she had been slapped. She silently and constantly repeated that single word, 'fortnight.'

"Robin," Frederick spoke severely, "this conversation is taxing what little strength you have recovered. You must rest now, what remains can wait."

"Wait, one more question!" Robin grabbed Lon'qu's hand. "Where is he now?"

Lon'qu met her gaze. "In the guest room two doors from here, where he was when he died. The body has been prepared for burial, but-"

"Two doors." Robin repeated. "Let me see him. I must see him. Take me to see him!"

"Robin," Frederick jumped to his feet, "you are exciting yourself too much! You shall grow ill again!"

"So what!" Robin screamed, glowering at Frederick. "So what if I should grow sick! Perhaps this time I truly will die! Why should I not die? Would it not be better? Neater? If I die, then I may be with Chrom again!" Robin arched forward, slamming her fists slowly, then more rapidly again the matress. "I shall die! I shall die! Gods, let me die!"

Frederick and Lon'qu grabbed her arms, but she fought them for control. Still, Robin screamed, "Let me go! Let me die! Let me die! Let me die!" The last chant fell into a sob, her head falling with it. She lay, spent, against Lon'qu's chest, crying softly.

"Let me die. Please, let me die? I don't want... to live... without him..."

* * *

 _Speaking of grieving, I wondered whether you had plans to visit Ylisstol in the near future? You see, it has been some time since I last was home, and there are many things I could do in even two days. If you would allow me to ride with you, then I shall not have to worry about sharing a public carriage with strangers; you nor your husband need worry about escorting me. No, once I am home, I shall be quite well on my own._

* * *

 **Author's Note: I tried very hard to keep the charaters's grief realistic and not let my being a female interfere with the solid natures of Lon'qu, Frederick, and Robin. But in case you suspect Robin's melt-down at the end was out of character, remember that she is still extremely weak from illness; perhaps she would have been better able to control her grief had she been at even half her strength, but she is actually persevering on very little energy.**

 **On another note, I have an interesting tidbit of knowledge that you may very well find entertaining: My sister,** Pokémon67 **is writing a parody version of this story, entitled** ** _The Flow of Timeless_** **. (How clever she is at titles!) The first chapter has been posted, in case you want to check it out. Please do review her story, if not mine. (But why not be a really great person and review them both?)**


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